One Choice
by ScullysGone
Summary: I don't have a summary for this one - it was a sentence-prompt from a friend. Check it out anyway, and review please :-))


The usual - I don't own Mulder, Scully or TXF. This isn't for money or fame. For fun!

Thanks for reading and please review!

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_The phone rang and she picked it up eagerly. Mulder was late - Mulder was only late when something was wrong._

_"Mulder?"_

_"Scully! Listen to m-"_

_"Mulder, where are you?"_

_There was a scuffle on the other end of the phone and the sound of someone being hit - hard._

_"Mulder?"_

_Silence._

_"MULDER!?"_

_"Get in your car and drive South. Don't stop for anything. Just get on the interstate and drive."_

_The muffled voice was deep and husky, like a man who smoked too many cigarettes for too many years._

_"Who is this? Where is Mulder?!"_

_The line went dead._

"Please..."

Tears fell to the concrete floor and shattered like broken glass, tiny shards of saline splintering in every direction. They were less than helpful - not cathartic in the way a woman's tears should be. These were not cleansing. Not healing. At that moment, Scully despised being a woman. She hated the fact that tension manifested in unbidden, unstoppable streams falling down her face. She felt weak. Men got angry, hit things and cursed and spit. Women cried. Damn the extra 'X' chromosome.

"...don't make me say it."

Her words came out like the dying breath of a final wish. All she wanted was to get away, to stop the madness. But that meant saying words she couldn't form inside her pounding head, words her heart couldn't speak. She had no choice, really. Speak or remain silent - either way, she would die alone. Even knowing her decision would save one life, the cost would be greater than she could have ever imagined.

_It was too dark to see anything. Using the echo like sonar, she tried to locate him in her mind. He was ahead of her, and to the left. She heard soft scuffling noises to the right, maybe twenty or thirty feet away - like feet dragging on the floor. She took steps forward, cautiously listening._

_"That's far enough."_

_"Who are you? Where's Mulder?"_

_"You'll have all the answers you need in due course. For now, you listen. You-"_

_"I want to see Mulder right now!"_

_"You know, I never figured you for a rude one, but I guess circumstances can bring out the worst in any of us, can't they? Well, I'll not return the gesture by making you wait any longer."_

_Two men moved past her, their heavy-soled boots making soft thuds on the concrete. Heavy industrial lights flickered above and Mulder came into view about 20 feet in front of her. His hands were bound behind his back and a silver ribbon of tape covered his mouth. Large bruises were already covering most of his face._

_"Mulder?"_

_"He can't talk right now."_

_She glared into the shadow._

_"Just tell me what you want."_

_"I like that. Down to business then. I imagine you'd like to leave here with your partner, am I correct?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Yes. Well, unfortunately for you, and suppose for him as well, that's not a possibility."_

_"And why is that?"_

_"You're going to ask me to kill him."_

_"And why would I do that?"_

_"Because if you don't, I'm going to kill them both."_

Mulder knelt on the cold floor twenty feet in front of her, his breathing slow and his head lulling wearily to the right. A trail of blood ran from the corner of his right eye, ending in a growing crimson stain on the collar of his Oxford - the one that looked like vanilla ice cream. In a fleeting moment of clarity, or maybe insanity, she recalled how it was her favorite of his shirts. It made his hazel eyes seem deeper.

Mulder's eyes. So many times she had stared into them, finding her center when life became unbalanced. Finding answers when questions fell like rain. Finding truth when all around her were lies. With a longing in her heart that cut deeper than any knife, she locked her gaze on him once again and prayed for the answer she sought.

"It's ok, Scully."

He said it weakly but with a small smile, a faint pull in the corner of his mouth - she realized the blood from his eye fell in a mixture of salty tears. Of course he would cry now, she thought. She'd seen it many times before, but never had she seen him cry for her. Her mother said he'd cried when she was in the coma, but she hadn't been awake to see it. The kind oncology nurse who held her wash basin told her he'd wept one night while she was sleeping. She'd never asked him about those times, feeling they were sacred to him - that he would tell if he wanted. Staring at him now, seeing his tears fall for her, she wished she had.

_The shadow man waived his dark arms in an exaggerated flourish, oddly similar to the waves rolling in Scully's stomach. Behind Mulder, the darkened office was suddenly lit from inside. Against the blinds three shadows were cast - three figures standing shoulder to shoulder, the middle slightly shorter than the others._

_Mulder moaned against the tape, wriggling as much as his tortured body would allow without falling to the floor. His sudden anxiety only deepened her confusion - the thug on Mulder's left ripped the silver ribbon from Mulder's mouth with little finesse._

"Mulder, what if it's not..."_  
_

"What if it is, Scully? Everything will be ok. I need you to do this for me. Please."

And that was the answer. The question wasn't to say the thing or not. The question was how far would she go for the man she loved. What would she sacrifice? And she knew in that instant she would go forever - she would do the hardest thing that hurt the most and would leave her the emptiest. Because she trusted him.

_"Scully, do it. Just do it."_

_"Mulder!? I can't d-"_

_"Scully, you HAVE to. They'll kill him."_

_"Kill who, Mulder?"_

_"William...they have William."_

She turned her face away from him, looking to the man in the shadows. Summoning all the courage she'd ever possessed, she spat the words into the dark.

"Kill him."

Her chest caved in under the weight of her words and she faced Mulder again. They both let the tears fall unbridled, holding each other's gaze and saying more in the silence than they had ever said out loud. So this was what hell felt like. Staring into the face of her only constant in the entire world, knowing she would never again hold it in her hands.

"I love you."

The echoing gun shot would be the soundtrack to her nightmares for the rest of her life...

* * *

So, I need to know if I should continue this...


End file.
